Affection's Worth
by ILoveThesePeople
Summary: Merlin was one of those people who were so wonderfully, stupidly amazing that it was impossible to not let him crawl beneath your skin and make a home there.


**Title: Affection's Worth**

**Author: ILoveThesePeople**

**Word Count: 1,514**

**Genre: Romance/Humor (Or my lame attempts at it, anyway.)**

**Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, past Arthur/Sophia, Arthur/Vivian, Arthur/Percy, and Arthur/Gwen.**

**Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, Gwaine, Will, Lance, Gaius, Uther, Sophia, Vivian, Percy, and Gwen.**

**Warnings: Some language and non descriptive boy!kissing.**

**Spoilers: N/A.**

**Disclaimer: I, in no way, own **_**Merlin **_**or any other products/productions that may have been mentioned. All familiar concepts and characters belong to their rightful owners.**

**Summary: Merlin was one of those people who were so wonderfully, stupidly **_**amazing **_**that it was impossible to not let him crawl beneath your skin and make a home there.**

**Author's Note: So, wow, fluff. Surprise? I wrote this for my friend Ellie who has been rather down and asked me for fic. She then persuaded me to post it here since I don't really think fluff is my natural habitat. No, seriously, it isn't. My habitat is angst, death, angst, death, ooh look, pretty boys!, death, angst. Despite that I hope that any of you who read it enjoy it and I would be **_**delighted **_**it you left a review! **

Arthur Pendragon is many things. He's noble, kind, selfish, loving, protecting, rude, and a bit of a prat. In fact most—well those who truly know him, at least—people view him as a Knight in Shining Armor that, in quiet a few places, is crusted over with rust. The fact remains, however, that while being a multitude of things one that he never is is affectionate. Oh no, don't be mistaken, when Arthur loves someone he loves them fiercely and, usually, for eternity. Yet when it comes to the simple things, like taking hold of someone's hand or kissing them gently without any pretense, he was rather, well, useless. Morgana claimed it was due to Uther no nonsense attitude towards any sort of contact, how each move of his had to be calculated and precise in front of his father's eyes as he grew up. Morgana was incredibly biased on the subject of Uther, though, so he mostly ignored her and her exclamations about his _denial_, whatever that meant. He simply didn't care for the overall sappiness that seemed to come hand in hand with romance, and so what if he absolutely _loathed _PDA? He knew plenty of people who weren't too fond of PDA and prolonged contact and so what if most of them slept around? It said nothing of him and "his type", as Morgana words it.

He could not deny, however, that his _perfectly normal _hang up seemed to be an impenetrable blockade in any and all of his relationships. Sophia Sidhe—an associate of Uther's and hadn't _that _been a bad idea—found it ridiculous and had teased and ridiculed him over it throughout their entire relationship which, unsurprisingly, lasted only two weeks. Vivian Trickler had tried her hardest to be understanding, always trying her best to shy away from touch as often as possible if she knew it would upset him. Yet her life consisted of family and friends that constantly dotted on her and the hurt that flashed in her eyes each time was undeniable and gave him such guilt he ended the relationship after only a month. Percy Anderson had tried to simply not care, but he had a love for being coveted that couldn't be ignored and, sooner rather than later, left to find someone who could give him open appreciation. Guinevere Smith—affectionately called Gwen by friends—had been sympathetic and trying, pushing his boundaries further than most to see what he could handle. It was an act that both endeared him to her as well as made him resent her at times and it wasn't too harsh or awkward for either of them after their inevitable break up.

Then he had met Gwaine Weston who, as a whole, didn't really make much of a fatal impact on his life. Sure he was a nice drinking buddy and Arthur knew without a little bit of doubt that, if needed, Gwaine would be there for him. Yet with Gwaine came Merlin Emrys, his best friend and loyal companion. It seemed wherever you found one you found the other and the utter protectiveness that Gwaine radiated when in Merlin's presence would have warned him off had it been anybody else. Yet Merlin was one of those people who were so wonderfully, stupidly _amazing _that it was impossible to not let him crawl beneath your skin and make a home there. Really, it was ridiculous how quickly the people in his life became enamored with him. Morgana talked of him as if regarding a long lost brother, Gaius swelled with a pride almost father-like at the mere mention of his name, Gwen cooed and flailed at the mere sight of him, Lancelot viewed Merlin as one of his "BFFs", and even Uther was less harsh on him than any other "plebian" Arthur had seen him interact with. Which might or might not have embittered him to Merlin's presence in the beginning, but that was neither here nor there.

Anyway, the point of the matter was that Merlin's presence in his life was impossible to ignore. With that presence, because his life was one _huge _fucking cliché, everything changed. With Merlin there was something always beneath the surface, swimming forward at the oddest of times and slipping away when almost in grasp. He wore his heart on his sleeve and seemed to treasure each and every person he met for simply being _them. _He had secrets few seemed to know and, at times, looked as though he believed the world to be damned. He was acceptance and judgment, peace and war. An enigma wrapped with an intoxicating oxymoron, presented to him with a shiny little bow because Merlin has a rather peculiar love for bright things. And, really, how is he supposed to resist? He's always loved a challenge and, somehow, he thinks he could love Merlin too. This is a rather foreign concept to him, in all honesty, because while he has loved he has never been _in_ love, not really. Not the way he can imagine himself loving Merlin, honest and pure and _forever_.

In so many ways he can see redemption in Merlin's eyes, for what he does not know. Maybe some past lives' sins, or a wrong done by him that had been forgotten with time. It takes him one year to get a taste of that redemption, a painfully long time that left him weary and, somehow, glowing. Or, at least, that's what Morgana said, but she wasn't really to be trusted if the teasing amusement in her eyes had anything to say about it. Besides he didn't glow, he _shined, _obviously. According to Merlin anyway, and Merlin _was _to be trusted despite his close friendship with Morgana. One year of friendship tinged with longing, of treading a thin line between acceptable and really rather _not. _A year of midnight phone calls because _Hey, if I have to be up this late at night I might as well not suffer alone, right mate? _ Eventually in that time Arthur learned he _was _right, of course, when it came to loving Merlin. Because Merlin ate all the marshmallows out of the _Lucky Charms_ and stayed up indecently late to watch _Doctor Who_ and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons_ and gave back as good as he got despite the fact he was fighting with the heir to Pendragon Industries. He laughed at all of Lancelot's obvious punch lines and schemed with Morgana and read with Gaius and even held conversation with Uther for an entire hour without letting one hint of how terrified he was slip. He rolls his eyes when Gwaine gives Arthur the "shovel talk" and intervenes when Will, another one of Merlin's protective friends, punches Arthur while yelling "I challenge you to a duel!" for forgetting Merlin's birthday that one time when his father was pressing him to settle down.

That night is the first time he kisses Merlin. His eye is nearly swollen shut, bruises forming unattractively around it and Merlin is hovering about with a bag of ice, looking uncertain and worried. Arthur had looked up at Merlin who didn't hold one ounce of anger towards him and desperately wanted to say thank you for anything, everything he had ever done for Arthur. So he had kissed him, quick, chaste, and loving. Later they would explore each other's mouths, tongues mapping out palates and teeth until their jaws ached, but right them wasn't the time for it. It wouldn't be until he was in bed, Merlin curled around him like he was his favorite teddy bear, that he realized he had done so in the presence of both Will and Lance, who had come to check on him. It had been simple and easy with no thought behind it, no need or build up that would require the touch.

After that it became surprisingly easy for every single thing he had once hated to become his favorite past time. His arm had a nearly permanent place around Merlin's waist and he often reached over at random times to leave an innocent peck on his forehead or lips. Entwining their fingers together when they walked side by side felt almost painfully natural and at times he didn't even realize when he did it. Sometimes he'd wonder why Merlin had accomplished what so many had tried to without even realizing it. But then the answer would become so painstakingly clear again that he tossed it away. The thing with Merlin was that even as he assessed you and judged you by what he saw, he always accepted the outcome. And the second he had met Arthur he had seen every single flaw and never thought twice about it. Never attempted to push him beyond his limits or to timidly avoid them all together. He had acknowledged what he might never get in their relationship without a second thought because he believed Arthur was worth it.

Besides, Arthur took great pleasure in surpassing Merlin's expectation by a mile, at least. Maybe more, probably more.


End file.
